


153 - Bite Down Salvador

by storiesaboutvan



Category: Catfish and the Bottlemen (Band)
Genre: Angst, F/M, Mini Fic, Reader-Insert
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-01-13
Updated: 2019-01-13
Packaged: 2019-10-09 09:07:27
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 897
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17404055
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/storiesaboutvan/pseuds/storiesaboutvan
Summary: A songfic based on Bite Down Salvador.





	153 - Bite Down Salvador

It was too early in the night for anyone to assume you'd disappeared with Van to have sex, even if that is exactly what you did. His soft hair and warmth made him so different to all the other people around. And maybe if you'd been able to keep your mouth shut about it, nobody would have ever known. There wouldn't be nasty gossiping and laughing behind your back within the subsequent hours. It didn't matter if it was born out of jealousy, it hurt all the same. As you left Van in his bedroom zipping his jeans up and pulling his boots on, people's gazes followed you down the hallway and into the kitchen. You stood next to Ness, and she narrowed her eyes at you.

"I can literally smell the sex, Y/N," she whispered. You laugh loudly.

"You cannot! That's not even a thing!"

Someone overheard, and the whispering words made their way around the party. You didn't like how it felt to be talked about, so you found yourself an old friend, and hooked around his arm for protection. Van watched you walk around the spaces of the house with him, greeting his friends and acting like a girlfriend. Then, someone told him you'd been in another guy's bed not even an hour beforehand. His stupid fragile masculinity shattered, your friend let your arm go and walked away. Ness found you trying to not cry in the dark and lonely backyard.

"You know he literally has been complaining about you keeping him in 'the friendzone' for ages?" she said.

She left you alone to smoke a cigarette held between shaking left-hand fingers. Minutes passed, then twinkling Christmas lights turned on. They were strung from the washing line, and through a few trees. Van emerged from the back door.

"Wondered why nobody was out here. Lights weren't on," he said, trying to act casual. He sat down on the old wooden bench next to you. You didn't say anything as he lit a smoke and exhaled in time with you. "Think it's going to rain," 

"Yeah. Not looking forward to walking home in it," you replied, unsure of what else to say.

"You're welcome to crash here. Or I can drive you home. I've sobered up a lot,"

"Thanks. I'll let you know," which was a lie. Neither of those things would be happening. You wondered if he knew that.

"So-" Van began. You quickly stood.

"I think I should probably just go now, before it does rain," you said. Van looked confused and hurt. All you wanted was a brief, easy, little thing. Instead, you got a house full of double standard slut-shaming and a weird feeling of regret you were not used to. It had all happened so fast. You'd slept with people at parties before and it wasn't like that. What was different? Why did it all feel so wrong?

"Wait, Y/N. What… I don't care what people think. I don't even know half these people. They aren't my proper friends, you know? Maybe we can just go back to my room and-"

"I'm not fucking you again," you interrupted defensively. Van stood up.

"What?! No! I was gonna say listen to some records or whatever. Jesus fucking Christ. I didn't do anythin' to you; why are you being like this?"

"I don't owe you anything," you replied.

"I know. I don't think you do. I just…" Van sighed and looked back inside through the kitchen window. "We don't know each other. I just saw you, and your fucking beautiful smile, and I heard you laugh and your voice, and it was good and we… You're just being really weird right now. I don't want you to go home and remember me as a bad thing, you know? I'll kick every one of these gossipy fucks out of my house if you want. Right now," Van said. You'd known each other for a couple of hours. Why was he so intense?

"It's okay, Van," you said. You stepped to him and wrapped your arms around his neck. He hugged you back, and wouldn't let go. "I'm used to people talking shit,"

"Don't say that. Shouldn't be used to it,"

"It's fine. I'm just going to head off,"

"Can you just stop… speaking… Just wait. Give it a minute," he said. You liked that he was brave enough to tell you to stop speaking. It was funny and direct and unlike everything else he'd asked of you that night. 

You gave him the minute, letting him hold your body to his. A fine mist of rain started to fall, and you shuddered in the cold. "This party's a fucking wreck. Please don’t go. You're the best thing about it," he tried again. Van let you go and you looked at him. He was the nicest thing about it. Potentially, the only nice thing. You shook your head. "Can you at least take my jacket? You're shaking," he said as he took off the black denim he had on and put it around you. He probably wanted to hate you, or at least feel apathetic. It would have made it easier. But he didn't. He liked you a lot. Van watched as you walked around the side of his house wearing his jacket, smoking a fresh cigarette. You faded into the night.


End file.
